period after the workout. This last portion of the class both students and instructor sit back on their knees, the secondary instructor, or sempai, having called, ‘Attention, close your eyes!’ in Japanese, or ‘Kiotsuke, mokso!’ “I never thought it would go anywhere,” admits Hopkins. Some children will have balance issues, others will have spatial or coordination issues, and some will have attention issues, unable to sit, or pay attention for extended periods of time. Miranda Carey, for instance, was unable to sustain long durations of stimulation. Carey, now 18, is diagnosed with Aspergers and could not endure any physical contact. Thanks to Hopkins’ and Scribner’s advocacy, in February of 2001 the first class was conducted within the school’s gym. With roughly 15 children and no proper mats, the first classes were hit and miss. Gym mats were used, initially. They don’t absorb much impact, however, so the beginning sessions were primarily ‘mat-work’, which looks like wrestling. Not only had no violent incident occurred, once students became
She even still finds time to be dainty whilst tossing grown men ground ward... accustomed to the routine they were they able to sit for zazen. They also began to exhibit other benefits. Carey, who has taken Judo for several years now, can wrestle larger players to the ground and pin them there, a huge step from her timidity. She even still finds time to be dainty whilst tossing grown men ground ward, a look of mild guilt passing her expressive face as she says, “Oops, sorry!” She, like Ian, has become a source of inspiration to the younger initiates, as well as an example. Carey’s development has come in other forms, as well. She is able to do things that would have frightened her prior to Judo, such as riding her bicycle. Judo had not only raised her self confidence, it afforded her better balance and core strength. In short the Judo class was supplementing the physical
th therapy the children re received from the
AND THE ART OF DEVELOPMENT
Photo Courtesy Zach Baum Ezra Waltermauer executes a breath-taking uchimata at a hudson yadanshakai promotional tournament in north burgen, new jersey.
By Corey J. Kolvenbach
I
t’s Saturday morning at the Children’s Annex, a school that focuses on early intervention for children affected with autism. The school is eerily uninhabited, save for some classroom animals and exotic fish, and the people stretching in the gym. There are several of them on the mats, most wearing white pants and jackets with cloth belts tied into knots in the front. One of the younger attendees wanders over to a sandy haired man in glasses, who promptly kneels and helps properly tie the belt. The man in glasses is Bill Scribner, and this is his Judo class. Soon students will drill foot and handwork, hold downs (or pins), and perhaps how to tie a belt properly. All the while Scribner will have the help of his son, Ian. 19 years ago Ian was born multiply disabled/autistic. Ian will serve as an example in etiquette and form for the other students. Nine years ago Ian started doing Judo with his father at Ulster Budokai, a Kingston based practice hall headed by instructor Mark Roosa. Scribner could not help but notice a difference in his son. “Ian’s interaction [skills] improved greatly,” he says. His motor skills also began to improve, as well as his ability to handle responsibility. Seeing the difference in his son Scribner decided to apply what he had learned in his 20 plus years of Judo experience to a program for those, like Ian, who have special needs. Ian had been attending The Children’s Annex where Scribner also happened to be treasurer. He decided to pitch his idea for a new Judo program.
“Ian’s interaction [skills] improved greatly.” -Bill Scribner Lori Hopkins, the Annex’s physical therapist/adaptive physical education department head, helped develop the class. However, some of the department heads had misgivings, initially. The idea was revolutionary, after all; even for a school that was perpetually breaking new ground. “There was a fear the kids might use what they learned out of class, that we would be empowering kids to be more aggressive.” Hopkins says of the deciding committee. Hopkins, who coincidentally has brothers who played and won competitions in Judo, admitted she was not entirely sure in the beginning that the children would be able to sit during zazen, the meditation
Annex, as well as aiding in socialization. The class increased its participants motor skills and reflexes, something many of the children have issues with, Hopkins says. To showcase the progressive achievements of his Judo class, as well as offer them a competition style experience, Scribner created the annual ‘Ulster Budokai V.S Children’s Annex Team Tournament’ at the Children’s Annex. The tournament allows the students who participated throughout the year to play in matches with Judo players from Ulster Budokai. For the last five years Budokai has lent between eight to 12 players for the event. The Annex students, who start in fall at the beginning of the school year, are allowed to show what they have learned the following June.
Screams of glee as well coos of wonder can be heard by both Annex participants and attending parents, who may not have had the ability to see their children perform during the course of the school year. In 2007, some time after the inception of the Annex class, Scribner became acquainted with Roy Court of WISP Judo, who had been coaching those with special needs since 1984. Centered in Whales, Court trains his students for competition, and introduced Bill to a tournament in Ravenna Italy, geared entirely to those with handicaps. The tournament, a four day event funded by the prefecture of Ravenna, features just fewer than 200 players, all with varying impairments. Matches are decided by allowing referees and coaches to consider ability and size, although there is a general speech deficit. Some coaches and referees are indigenous; others are German, Hungarian, Dutch, Welsh, etc. That year Scribner decided to take two of his students to the tournament in Ravenna Italy, located on the northern Adriatic coast. His son Ian and his long time pupil Carey both competed, doing exceptionally well, having played against, at times, much larger and perhaps faster players. Scribner’s students refused to take off their medals for days to come. It’s Saturday morning at the Children’s Annex and there is a line of kneeling students who are facing a man who is also kneeling. He has sandy colored hair and glasses; there is a sheen of perspiration on his face
from a workout regimen he has just shared with the attentive children facing him. Bill Scribner gives the go ahead to his son Ian, who sits at the head of the line. Robustly, Ian says, “Kiotsuke, mokso!” And the class sits in silence, quietly meditating.